


Swallowtail

by derasorea



Category: Free!
Genre: Bakery/baking, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-25
Updated: 2015-03-25
Packaged: 2018-03-19 10:05:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3606162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/derasorea/pseuds/derasorea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rin goes to buy a cake. He finds something sweeter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Swallowtail

**Author's Note:**

> For Val, who requested fluff and a bakery AU for Rinrei Secret Santa 2014.  
> I posted this on Tumblr last December [(link)](http://derasorea.tumblr.com/post/106222050063/swallowtail) but I got an ask requesting that I post it here, too, since the line breaks between the Rin/Rei POVs weren't working on my theme. So here it is, late as usual I'm so sorry. I reworked it a bit.

**PART 1: 47 th**

 

(Rin)

Glancing up from the chalkboard stand by the door to note the time on his wristwatch, Rin finally grasped just how much trouble he was in. All this, he thought, was a mistake. The one-hour trip, another hour spent scouring eighteen bakeshops, and now this chalkboard with its twin butterflies and particularly curly handwriting. Swallowtail Café and Bakery, the writing said in pink and white chalk. He’s on the doorstep of Swallowtail Café and Bakery when he shouldn’t be.

He should’ve been at home, manning the kitchen. But Gou told him (over pans clattering and water bubbling on the stove) that no, he had cooked last year, and today was now her turn to make birthday dinner for their mother. She had gushed about mastering a recipe and copying a salad exactly from one of the restaurants they tried three months before, before shooing him out of their house with some money and two jobs: to buy a birthday cake and to be back before their mother came home from work.

He loved his sister, but sometimes she confused him so.

Why was he the one in charge of the _cake_?

Gou should know of all people that he didn’t like sweets and had as much knowledge with pastries as the average one year-old. He’s also particular in his interests, very much so. When he wanted something, he’d turn the world over in search of it and work damn hard to get it. He’d never settle for anything less than the exact thing he liked.

What he wanted today was something simple, really. A cake. Something comfortably cheap, not too sweet, fruit-based.

Eighteen bakeshops didn’t have what he wanted. He didn’t like any of the goods on display, except for one okay-looking chocolate cake which was too expensive for his budget. He didn’t bother asking around, either. Nothing seemed to be worth his time. He came and went, idled, and left the shops empty-handed.

It was now quarter to five o’clock. He’d have to be home by 7 PM, and he’d be travelling for more than an hour.

As if on cue, his phone rang and Gou’s excited voice breathed:

“Onii-chan, the chicken is perfect! And the wraps are coming along nicely. I’ll do the salad when you’re home. Are you near? What cake did you buy?”

Bracing himself, he muttered, as quick as he could: “I haven’t bought one yet.”

“What? _Why?_ It’s almost 5! Did something happen? We have less than two hours to prepare. We were lucky enough that Mom had work on a weekend—” There was silence, and then: “Sorry, onii-chan,” Gou said in small voice. She must have realized how weird it was to set him off to bakeshops.

“Don’t worry, everything’s fine. I figured I could use the experience.” What for, he didn't want to think. That’s just to appease his sister. Annoyed as he was, he didn't want to hear her upset.

“You know Mom isn't particular to anything.”

“I know. I just want something fruit-based for her this time. You always indulge her with rich stuff.”

“Not always! Anyway, fruity would be nice for a change. But if you don’t find one, it can be any cake, Onii-chan. You’ve looked?”

“Yeah, but they didn't look that good.”

“That’s just you being so critical, as usual. Describe them, please.”

“They looked pretty and sweet, I guess,” he said.

“Onii-chan, that’s a very general description. That’s how cakes usually are. Or are you describing salesladies?”

“Funny, Gou.”

“How many shops have you been to?”

“Eighteen.”

Gou spluttered, evidently shocked. “And you haven’t found even one you liked?”

“There was a dark chocolate one. But it’s expensive.”

“Nothing else?”

“Nothing else.”

“You just have a grudge on anything that has sugar. A little sweetness won’t hurt anyone!”

“You know we have diabetics in the family—”

“I really should’ve bought the cake…”

“There’s still this one shop. Swallowtail. ‘Heard of it?”

“I haven’t. Is it new?”

“Right. It’s the only café-bakery in this strip, and my last shot. I’ll look at the items.”

“But what if you still don’t find a cake you like?”

“Then we’re skipping the cake this year.”

“We can’t do that!” Gou sounded hysterical. “Cake’s always part of the tradition!”

“Just kidding. I’ll buy a plain sponge cake if worse comes to worst.”

“But—” there was a great sigh from the other end of the line, then Gou relented. “Fine. If you do that, you’re forever off cake duty. Take care on the way home, okay?”

Rin grunted assent, grinned (being off cake duty was the goal after all), and ended the call.

Now, to Swallowtail.

Nineteenth time’s the charm, maybe.

He pushed the glass door open, breathing in the heady scents of baked goods and coffee. The shop’s interior, to his surprise and great relief, suited his tastes. He thought it looked sleek. The other shops were too cutesy to him or otherwise too plain and commercial-looking. Swallowtail’s walls were cream-colored, the floor red-tiled, the scheme in alternating accents of red, black, and white. Divided into two portions, the café area was considerably larger than the bakeshop. Geometric paintings of swallowtail butterflies adorned the place. Ten or so tables occupied the café, the shape of which continued the geometric, minimalist pattern of the shop. Best of all, one of his favorite Western bands was playing softly from the speakers.

_Can’t keep my eyes from the circling skies_

_Tongue-tied and twisted, just an earth-bound misfit, I_

The Pink Floyd song went on, and Rin hummed appreciatively as he walked over to the small glass counter of cakes in the corner. He inspected the cakes. Two caught his attention, before the attendant behind the cakes did.

“Good afternoon and welcome to Swallowtail Café and Bakery,” came a polite voice. “How may I help you?”

Rin found himself staring into the most fantastic pair of purple eyes as he looked up.

Suddenly, all this didn’t seem to be that much of a mistake anymore.

 

 

(Rei)

Rei saw the customer for the first time glaring at the sidewalk board by the door.

The customer, looking harassed, had spent a total of eight minutes outside, talking to somebody on the phone before finally entering the shop. When he went directly to the bakeshop instead of the café, Rei found himself wondering why. Was it an anniversary? A birthday? For whom? He felt it strange that he already had an idea what the customer could possibly like. Maybe it was the man's black hooded jacket, the way he had his wine-colored hair in a low ponytail, his confident gait, or his slightly broody features (which were not entirely bereft of humor, just anxiety-filled that time) that Rei thought: dark chocolate. The man looked like someone who would enjoy something bittersweet, in more ways than one.

He felt mildly disconcerted. None of the hundred or so customers that visited his parents’ shop today had caught and held his attention that fast, made him think of any dessert, nor had him surreptitiously brush his hair off his forehead and straighten his back just a little bit more. He put down the book he was reading to pass time and stood to greet him, thinking hard.

He came up with perfectly good reasons.

Novelty. Swallowtail was only four months old. Today was his first time tending the shop, being his first day of summer break and the first with nobody else in his family around.

Inexperience. They had four other employees tending the café, and one other assisting him in the bakeshop. All of them knew how to deal with customers better. Perhaps, they’d think of his theorizing about a customer’s dessert preferences as something of a protocol, something very welcome. It would be easier to suggest flavors that way, after all.

Eye for detail. His father had also told him he was inherently perceptive and sharp-eyed. The customer just stood out from the rest and occupied his mind because he had interesting hair (the ponytail, he reminded himself) and an interesting face (it was the uniquely pointed teeth, he wanted to believe).

Rei didn’t chalk it up to attraction.

Not yet.

“I need a cake,” the ponytail-wearing customer said.

“For what occasion, sir?” he asked with a smile. The customer was staring at him blankly. “Sir?”

“It’s Rin.”

He nodded and pressed on with the English honorific. “Sir Rin. We have six types of cake today–”

“Just Rin,” the customer, whose name was apparent at this point, said again. “Call me Rin.”

“Rin-san,” he allowed, thoroughly confused. He refused by principle to address strangers informally, especially shop customers.

“Your uh, glasses and the tables have the same shape.”

"Oh. It was my father’s idea to have them patterned to the shape of my eyeglasses.”

“You own this shop?”

Rei smiled politely. “My parents do. They’re away for the moment so I’m here.”

“Cool. So. I just told you my name, Table Glasses."

Rei frowned at this, more confused than ever. “Table Glasses?”

The customer now wouldn't look him in the eye. “Never mind. If I don’t bring home a cake by 7, my sister would probably kill me. Do you have a whole cake under 3,000 yen?

They both glanced at the glass counter, knowing the answer before it came.

“I’m afraid we don’t,” Rei said. “I’m so sorry.”

The customer—Rin-san, that was—ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. Wisps of hair loosened from the ponytail, and Rei was fascinated by the way they fell and framed Rin’s face.

“Not on hand, at least,” Rei hastily said. “We ran out of the plain chiffons earlier. I could order one for you—”

“Never mind,” Rin said again. “I don’t have time. What are those?”

 

 

(Rin)

Rin couldn’t believe himself.

Table Glasses.

He just called someone Table Glasses.

He dug his fingers deeper inside the pockets of his hoodie, wanting to disappear.

Granted, the object of his unwanted overture had really the most beautiful pair of eyes, which rendered him momentarily stupid. And thus set in motion his saddest attempt at flirting yet. But Table Glasses—for that was now what he resolved to call him, as he failed to get his name—didn't even seem to notice.

“This,” Rin heard him say, “is a Mango Tres Leche. It’s a light cake soaked in rum and three kinds of milk, and filled with mango slices. This one is a Banana Walnut. As its name suggests, it’s a banana walnut cake, cream-filled, with chocolate ganache frosting and topped with chopped walnuts.”

“It’s for my mother’s 47th birthday,” he muttered, more to his shoes and the cakes. “She likes fruits. Since she never had this stuff”—he pointed to the two cakes—“before, I figured I could try them. You think she’d like the Tres Leche? I know nothing about cakes.”

Table Glasses beamed. “I like to think she would. It’s one of our bestsellers, and a part of our Fresh Selections line. It’s healthy and not very sweet. I’d personally recommend it over Banana Walnut, as this mango cake is also my mother’s favorite.”

Not very sweet. The three words he was waiting to hear. He had zeroed in on those two cakes earlier on because something in them hinted they’d be among the cheapest (compared to the more gourmet-looking chocolate and fondant cakes in the counter) and now here was another definite reason to buy one of them.

“How much?”

“3,300 yen for the whole cake.”

Still pretty hefty, though. “Is this the cheapest you got?” he asked, just to confirm.

“Yes.”

He paused. To calculate mentally and to calm himself.

“I’ll take it,” he decided, pointing to the mango cake.

It was all right.

It was worth it.

It wasn’t just a perfect cake he found today.

He _tried_ not to look at Table Glasses’ long, deft fingers as he transferred the cake from the counter into a black box, and made a neat little bow with a piece of red ribbon.

 

 

(Rei)

The customer was nearly out the door when Rei walked to him, unsure why exactly.

“It’s Rei,” he said, unnecessarily straightening his glasses.

Rin turned to look at him, surprised.

“My name’s Ryugazaki Rei,” he repeated. “It’s a pleasure to have met you, Rin-san.”

Pointy teeth flashed as Rin grinned at him.

They looked at each other.

And at that moment, Rei understood _why_.

“’Don’t wanna be remembered as Table Glasses?”

“No, I suppose I don’t,” Rei said, and he too smiled.

 

 

 

**PART 2: 50th**

“I can’t believe we’re doing this again,” Rin said as he cracked eggs into a bowl.

“Calm down, Rin-san. I have greatly improved over the years. As you have. We can do this.”

“That’s not the problem here! And you slipped with that honorific again, creature of habit. You agreed to drop that, right?”

“I don’t see any problem, _Rin,"_ Rei corrected himself _._  "Unless you count _yourself_ again, in which I’ll have to remind you once more: you’re not. The first burnt cake was part of the learning process.”

“I’ve pretty much gotten over that. Thanks for reminding me, though,” Rin said, half-sarcastic, half-teasing. “Hey, wait. You got stuff”—he brushed off bits of flour from Rei’s left cheek—“on your face.”

Rei caught Rin’s hand and entwined their flour-covered and sticky fingers together. “So, _this_.” He said with a smile. “You can’t believe this?”

Rin looked at their hands, pressed his lips to Rei’s wrist, and smiled back. “Yeah,” he admitted. “All this. That you’re here with me after all these years, letting me burn your cakes.”

“Sometimes I don’t want to believe it either. All my beautiful recipes”—Rei waved a notebook around with his free hand—“and exact measurements, wasted!”

“Not all,” Rin said, rolling his eyes as his lips found Rei’s neck. “Stop being so dramatic.”

 “Oh, all right, fine. The first batch of cookies I made for you wasn’t so beautiful. The cookies were too sweet. And I should’ve chosen a better-shaped cutter. But, as I remember, you still ate them all.”

“’Course I would. I hate wasting stuff.”

“You hate wasting stuff _and_ you like me, it would seem.”

Rin trailed his tongue against Rei’s neck. “Hmmm. I wonder where you got that idea?”

“I’m astute,” Rei said simply, barely able to keep his eyes open from the warm wetness near his collarbone and the minty smell of Rin’s hair. With difficulty and slight reluctance, he said: “Now will you _please_ get off of me, we have a cake to perfect...”

“Okay,” Rin whispered lazily, but otherwise proceeded to graze Rei’s skin with his teeth.

They only let each other go after ten minutes of rolling around on their apartment’s tiny kitchen, which had been witness to tears, mini-explosions, and various cramped sexual positions for the past three years.

“Rin,” Rei said as they washed hands. “Do you think your mother would like me?”

Rin laughed. “You plan to bake her a cake for her fiftieth birthday tomorrow. Of course she’d like you.”

“Thank you. I’m nervous. I know her birthday dinners are a special affair for your family. Inviting me for the first time—”

“Don’t, okay? She likes you. You’re her dream son. She calls me Rei sometimes you know, to annoy me.”

They laughed at that.

“Does she know about us?”

“Well, since I told her I’d be taking someone special home for her birthday, whose name incidentally is Ryugazaki Rei, I guess she made two and two together.”

“It’s all right with her?”

Rin nodded. "Rei?”

Rei had pushed a mixing bowl away and started crying into his sleeve. “My parents are not ready yet.”

“Hey,” Rin said, looking alarmed. If there was one thing he hated most in the world, it’s seeing Gou, his mother, and Rei cry. And as it so often happened between the two of them, crying seemed contagious. “It’s okay,” was all he managed to say, feeling deeply inadequate. Rei’s parents being a bit traditional had always put strain on their relationship. Rei never kept secrets, but some confessions weren’t as readily accepted. He hadn’t been home for two years.

“I have wanted to introduce you, for ages…”

“It’s okay. Baby steps. Mine first, then yours. We’ll get there, you have to believe we will. All right?” He kissed Rei’s tears away and slung an arm around Rei’s shoulders, not letting go till the sobbing subsided.

After a while, Rei began talking again. “I’m anxious, but I’m also looking forward to tomorrow,” he said with a watery smile. “I’ll see your mother and I can finally thank Gou-san personally.”

“What, for all of my baby pictures she smuggled to you?” Rin snorted, though he felt glad Rei calmed down. “She’s a traitor to _my_ cause.”

“That, too, I suppose. But mainly for that day three years ago.”

“Ah. Right. Cake duty day.” Rin hopped off the countertop and got the bowl he had busied himself with earlier.

“I remember it more as the day you tried to know my name using my glasses and a table. What a horrible way to introduce yourself!”

“Shut up,” Rin said, dignifiedly cracking the last three eggs. “You fell for me anyway.”

“I had no choice. You reminded me of dark chocolate.”

“Which you like, I know.”

“Which I _love,”_ Rei corrected him. “Kindly hand that bowl over.”

“Let me help,” Rin said as he passed the bowl to Rei. “What do I do with these eggs?”

“Just like what we did last time. We have to beat the yolks till they ribbon. First, break them up with this." Rei handed Rin a whisk.

“Like this?”

“Yes, excellent. You might just turn out to be a fine baker yourself.”

Rin rolled his eyes again, and they both laughed. “Like that’ll ever happen. What next?”

“We add the sugar and the lemon zest next.”

“Got it. Like this?”

“Nooooooooooo!”

“Shit,” Rin said, sounding panicked. “What?”

“Too much sugar!”

"Okay, but did you really have to do that?"

Rei gave him a look. "Do what?”

"That dying animal screech?"

"When did I sound like a—"

"Just now. That 'no'. Really? And I thought you're worried with neighbors thinking we're noisy." Rin smirked. "Or does that only apply to our, you know, night-time activities?"

“You’re louder than me, I’ll have you know. Do you remember that night when we _—_ ”

"I meant late night horror movies, though. Not the other... activities."

Rei's face fell, obviously embarrassed, and Rin started laughing.

"Oh, you're too funny," Rei snapped.

“Well, you’re too loud!” Rin jabbed the bowl. “I almost dropped this thing when you screamed!”

“I was just surprised!" Then there was a pause. "I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry."

Rin sobered from all his ribbing at once. "Hey, I was supposed to say that first. I know how much this cake means to you. Don't apologize, okay? I'm the one who messed it up." Nervously: "Can I just wash stuff after you're done here? "Not really my comfort zone, baking..." He eyed a baking sheet sullenly.

Rei's expression softened. "But I thought you wanted to learn?"

"Yeah. There's that." It's because he secretly wanted to bake cookies for Rei someday, and maybe a cake for his mom and Rei's mother, too.

"Well, hands-on experience is the best teacher." Rei smiled and gave him the mixing bowl back. "You make the best steaks. You can do this, I believe in you!"

"Jeez, don't patronize me." But Rin was feeling a rather fluttery warmth at this vote of confidence. "What do we do next?"

"If too much sugar is added at once, the yolks will clump. We have to add them by tablespoons, like so.” He held Rin’s hand with his own, guiding it to and from sugar container and bowl. “There, see. Then we beat. Not too hard or too light. The mixture should ribbon.”

“Ribbon?”

“If we do it right, the consistency should be beautifully thick and smooth, and when lifted with a spoon, should fall in a flat, ribbon-like pattern. You’ll see after a few minutes. I will set the mixer to low, but we’ll gradually increase the speed…”

They continued in this fashion for a while, until the cake was finally in the oven, and the two leaned against the kitchen counter to admire their work—cake in oven, frosting materials at the ready—so far.

“We followed my cake recipe—that is, Mom’s recipe, with my additions and revisions—to the letter,” Rei said, wiping his sweaty forehead with a towel. “It should be perfect. There should be no mistake.”

“Oi," Rin said, pinching Rei's nose lightly. "Relax. It’s fine if there’s a little mistake.” He took the other end of the towel and began wiping his upper lip.

“I can’t believe I just heard that from a perfectionist like you.”

“Well, from experience," Rin said, hiding his grin behind the towel as he remembered a certain day three years ago, "what looks like a mistake is sometimes a starting step towards perfection.”

 

 

 

 

 

(The cake, for all of Rei’s apprehension, turned out perfect.)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! ♥


End file.
